Scene Sunday Concept: The 5W1H Rule--answer the questions, and create a scene based on it!
Who: A girl on the open road.
What: Is driving.
Where: In the middle of nowhere.
Why: Because she's trying to escape her life.
When: Late afternoon/early evening.
How did it go: She finds something she wasn't looking for.
The air was surprisingly warm, despite the heavy gray storm clouds overhead. Her hair whipped around her face from the rush of wind through the open window, spraying it around her face. She reached up with one hand, pressing it back away from her eyes so she could focus on the road. The engine on the heavy, beat-up truck gunned as she pressed harder on the pedal, trying to outrun the storm.
The radio had long-since given away to static, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She kept her eyes fastened to the pavement in front of her, not wanting to think; not wanting to remember; not wanting to let her mind continuously replay those final moments in her head again and again.
So she drove harder. Faster. The long stretch of road gave no chances to take a turn to fast, but she desperately wished to play her odds. To treat her own life with the contempt and recklessness it had been shown. To abandon everything she'd ever been taught about morality, truth, and family.
Hot tears stung her eyes, a solid lump forming in her throat and nearly choking her. Her lips parted with a gasp to breathe in air, steeling herself against the impending tears. She hadn't cried yet, not once since she had left that horrific scene behind her. She wouldn't cry now. She wouldn't allow herself to think them worthy enough of her tears.
As if it wanted to do the job for her, the skies suddenly split open with a resounding crack of thunder, the rain falling down in sheets and pummeling the aged truck. She quickly reached for the window handle, rolling it up desperately to keep herself from getting wetter. Steam rose off of her newly-drenched arm as she reached for the heater, turning it on her at full blast.
Her visibility reduced to just yards in front of her car, she instinctively slowed, lifting her foot from the gas pedal. She scanned the sides of the open highway for a sign of where she was--where she might stop until the rain eased up a bit--but it was deserted. Just a long road and endless fields.
She slowed the truck more, dropping it down a gear. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen headlights, either coming toward her or behind her. She was completely alone on this isolated stretch of highway. It had been a blind turn, one she had made after countless others, and as the magnitude of her solitude crept in on her, one she was starting to regret.
She glanced at the gas gauge, relieved to see there was still half a tank of gas. She gritted her teeth, leaning over the wheel, keeping her eyes fastened to the road in front of her.
She continued on, driving, the rain streaming down around her and pelting the truck almost violently. Thunder cracked and roared in the skies, as if warning her away. For a moment she considered turning around, and then, blessedly, she saw it. A sign.
New Hope, it read. 5 miles.
She smiled wryly at the city's name. And then she continued her car forward, her destination set.